


A Tiny Duscur Blossom

by Grimalkenkid



Series: Three Houses Potpourri [5]
Category: Fire Emblem Series, Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Childbirth, Drama, F/M, Family Fluff, M/M, Multi, Polyamory, no beta we die like Glenn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-11-20
Updated: 2019-12-01
Packaged: 2021-02-13 16:49:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,347
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21497329
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Grimalkenkid/pseuds/Grimalkenkid
Summary: While everyone is overjoyed at Byleth's pregnancy, Dedue remains apprehensive, as it will be very obvious if the child is his. He doesn't want to cause political strife simply because the king and queen love him as much as each other.As it turns out, his worry isn't completely without merit. But the royal family will persevere. They always do, as long as they have each other.
Relationships: Dedue Molinaro/My Unit | Byleth, Dimitri Alexandre Blaiddyd/Dedue Molinaro, Dimitri Alexandre Blaiddyd/Dedue Molinaro/My Unit | Byleth, Dimitri Alexandre Blaiddyd/My Unit | Byleth
Series: Three Houses Potpourri [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1499483
Comments: 28
Kudos: 101





	1. Chapter 1

The queen was with child. While Dimitri and his close friends tried to keep the news quiet until they were more certain of Byleth’s health, once Raphael found out, that cat had effectively gotten out of the bag. Soon, all of Fódlan was celebrating the upcoming royal birth, the first in over two decades. And once the doctors confirmed that Byleth was taking well to the pregnancy, the rest of the former Garreg Mach class joined in the excitement.

Dedue, however, remained apprehensive. While neither king nor queen made a secret of their relationship with the Duscur man, he was acutely aware that his inclusion in their marriage was not universally accepted. He shuddered to think of the outrage that would follow if Byleth’s first child was borne of his seed. Dedue believed he was hiding his worry well until Dimitri confronted him about it one day.

They were in the kitchen, the young king struggling to follow an old recipe at Byleth’s request. Dedue had to physically keep himself from stepping in to help, as the queen’s bizarre cravings were for Dimitri’s cooking specifically.

“Dedue,” he said as he set the stew aside to simmer, “I’ve been meaning to ask, is everything alright? You’ve been rather quiet lately… more so than usual, I mean.”

“It’s nothing, Your Majesty,” the Duscur man replied automatically. “I am merely thinking of Her Eminence- Byleth’s health.” He mentally kicked himself; even though he was aware of it, he just couldn’t keep from using his lovers’ titles when he lied.

And Dimitri was well aware of Dedue’s tell. “Of course… but what’s  _ really _ wrong, my love?”

“Dimitri…” The Duscur man sighed heavily. He simply couldn’t hide anything when the king called him that, referring to him in such a familiar manner. “Do you remember our first discussion with Byleth, when I told you that our children should carry your blood and not mine?”

The king nodded. “Yes, I remember. But we found a compromise, didn’t we? The firstborn of my blood, then let the chips fall where they may?” Hesitantly, Dimitri stepped towards his lover and laid a hand on his cheek. “Are you having second thoughts? Please, tell me what’s wrong.”

Dedue let out a small chuckle and leaned into Dimitri’s hand. “Nothing like that,” he admitted. “I’m… overjoyed that you wish to add a child of mine to our family, but…” He took a deep breath and reluctantly removed the king’s hand from his face. “I do not think I was as careful as I could’ve been.”

“Dedue…” A sympathetic smile spread on Dimitri’s lips right before he leaned in to lightly kiss the Duscur man. “You worry so much,” he sighed, letting his forehead rest against Dedue’s. “We only made a few mistakes.”

“It only takes one,” Dedue murmured. He’d already done the math. One of those mistakes occurred around the time Byleth would’ve become pregnant. It wasn’t impossible for this child to carry Duscur blood instead of Blaiddyd.

Dimitri let the smile fall from his face. “Regardless, what’s done is done. We can deal with any repercussions when they occur…  _ If _ they occur.”

Dedue nodded slowly. The king was right. There was very little anyone could do at this point, and the few options remaining weren’t ones the Duscur man was willing to entertain. Slowly, he let the tension out of his shoulders and pulled Dimitri into a tender embrace, which the king eagerly returned.

“Whatever may come,” Dimitri said, “we will persevere. So, please, put these worries out of your mind… and perhaps worry more about whether or not I’ll burn the kitchen down.”

Dedue couldn’t help the chuckle that bubbled up from his chest. “As you wish, Dimitri.”

* * * * * * * * * *

Summer came, and with it, the recently-crowned King of Almyra. As a gesture of goodwill, Claude returned to Fodlan to meet with the King and Archbishop. Officially, it was to discuss a cessation of hostilities between the two countries; in truth, the sly schemer mostly just wanted to visit his old friends. For his part, Holst was more than willing to host the royal guests at Fodlan’s Locket for however long they wanted to “discuss relations”.

It was only unfortunate that the date for their reunion was around Byleth’s ninth month.

“Dedue, I’m fine,” the archbishop groaned as her lover carried her up another set of stairs. “I’m pregnant, not lame.”

The gentle giant merely smiled as he set Byleth down on the top step. “I am aware,” he said, offering his arm for her to lean on as she regained her balance. “But it is best not to push yourself so close to your baby’s arrival.”

“ _ Our _ baby, Dedue,” Byleth corrected him. “And I know I need to take it easy, but it’s so embarrassing being carried everywhere.”

“Then it’s a good thing you won’t need to endure it much longer, right?”

Another voice rang out over the walkway, and the pair of lovers looked up to see the Goneril siblings striding towards them. Lord Holst raised his hand as he drew nearer, beaming brighter than he had when Hilda returned to Fódlan.

“How are you finding the Locket, my lady?” the pink-haired lord asked in a softer tone. He bowed alongside his sister and gave a sheepish smile as he met Byleth’s eyes again. “I apologize for the multitude of stairs in our humble fortress, but building on top of a mountain necessitates such design.”

Hilda pouted and gave her brother a light punch to the shoulder. “Oh hush. You always said it was for training. Anyway, on to the important things…” As she said that, the fashionista opened her arms and swept Byleth into a big -- but gentle -- hug. “How’s my favorite professor doing? It’s been far, far too long since we last spoke.”

“Roughly two years, I believe,” Dedue commented as his love patted Hilda on the back.

The former professor bobbed her head in agreement. “That’s right. Not even a letter. We were worried sick until rumors of the new, Fódlan-born queen of Almyra started floating around.”

“How could you do that to me, Hilly?” Holst whimpered in an overdramatic way, making his lips tremble for added effect. “I thought that rapscallion finally abducted you! Why, I quite nearly led the charge into the heart of their country to rescue you!”

Hilda groaned and rolled her eyes. “Well,  _ that _ would’ve ended poorly. I swear, I really was too busy to send anything home, even a letter. Do you  _ know _ just how many people were ready to fight me for the right to marry my dear Claude? Too many!”

“So… one?” Holst smirked.

There was a momentary pause before everyone burst out laughing. The fashionable noblewoman’s tendency towards laziness was well-known, even to the point where her loving older brother didn’t mind giving her a ribbing for it.

“Anyway!” Hilda raised her voice above the mirthful cacophony. “I’m sorry for not contacting you sooner, but I’m here now and more than ready to make up for the time apart.”

Dedue was the first to regain his composure, having not lost much in the first place. “That is reassuring. I am certain Dimitri and Byleth will…” He trailed off as he saw that the former professor had yet to get up from her laughter-induced crouch. Laying a hand on her shoulder, the gentle giant asked, “What’s wrong, love?”

Byleth stayed still for a second more before shakily putting a hand over his and tightly squeezing it. “Dedue,” she said, all trace of laughter replaced with a serious and important tone, “apparently our baby was just waiting for the right joke, because they want to come out now.”

* * * * * * * * * *

Dedue’s hand was going numb. He’d once thought Dimitri’s grasp to be the strongest in Faerghus, but the gentle giant was re-evaluating that assessment. Byleth’s fingers were like a vice around his arm, digging in more with each contraction. Dedue was actually shocked she hadn’t shattered bone yet, though he supposed the former professor was holding back for his sake.

Flayn and the midwife were the only other people in the room, keeping an eye on the queen’s health and assisting with the birth whenever possible. A few extra helpers loitered beyond the bedroom door, ready to help at a moment’s notice, though they were mostly just keeping Byleth’s worried and frantic friends from barging in unannounced.

However, the one person Dedue desperately wanted to be beside him and his lover was absent. Early that morning, Dimitri had gone with Claude and a few of their more adventurous fellows to hunt in the mountains. They weren’t expected to get back before evening at the earliest, and even having sent Cyril and few other wyvern riders to find them, there was no guarantee they would get back any sooner.

And with how well Flayn said Byleth was doing, Dedue wondered if there was any chance Dimitri would be there for his first born's birth.  _ Couldn’t you have waited another few hours?  _ the gentle giant silently lamented, knowing full well the baby couldn’t hear him.  _ Your father wants to be here to greet you, but you’re in such a hurry… _

Another grunt from the queen and fingers digging into his flesh tore Dedue from his reverie. He shook his head and leaned over to stroke her head, wiping off some of the sweat that was collecting in her hair. “I’m here,” the gentle giant said. “Flayn said you’re doing good.”

“Th-thanks,” Byleth chuckled. Suddenly, she grasped his hand in hers and gazed up with tears in her eyes. “Dedue… I-I’m scared.”

“What’s there to be afraid of?”

“M-my mother…” she gasped softly between contractions, “died giving… giving birth to me. What if… what if I’m the same? I d-don’t want to… leave yet.”

Dedue furrowed his brow. To most, he looked angry, full of rage at some unknowing enemy, but it was merely determination that filled his heart. He leaned down and touched his forehead to hers. “We will not let that happen. You will live to see your child grow strong and healthy. I swear it.”

Byleth said nothing else, but the gentle squeeze on his hand told him everything he needed to know. She trusted him and his words, so the brief flash of fear retreated back into the recesses of her mind.

Hours passed.

Dedue lost track of time as he comforted Byleth and allowed her to cling to his arm. Every time the door opened, he expected to see Dimitri burst in, but his hope faded every time a cleric’s head poked in instead of the golden mane of his king. The gentle giant focused on helping Byleth to keep his thoughts off the heartbreak he would eventually have to see on the kind king’s face.

“One more push, Your Eminence.”

Byleth screamed and trembled against Dedue’s arms. He continued to hold her as she finished her labor, practically going limp as her body stopped urging her to push out her child. “I… am very… tired…” the queen sighed. “I’m… gonna take a… nap now…”

Flayn opened her mouth to say something, halting the slight healing magic she let flow through the queen’s body to ease the pain, but was cut off by a sharp cry. The baby -- whom the midwife was busy cleaning -- had taken their first breath and didn’t want to remain silent about it.

“Oh my,” the green-haired healer giggled. “They have got quite the pair of lungs, do they not?”

However, the midwife didn’t respond immediately. In fact, she paused while swaddling the child and glanced up at Byleth. Then at Dedue. Then the child. Then back at Dedue… all while wearing a confused look on her face.

“Is something wrong?” the gentle giant asked, narrowing his eyes in concern.

The poor woman flinched at his intense gaze and shook her head. “N-no. Nothing’s wrong. She’s… she’s a healthy… baby girl. Nothing worrisome at all.” She tried to sound happy and confident, but her tone betrayed her true feelings. She was scared and confused, and it had something to do with Byleth’s child.

Glancing down at the now softly snoring queen, Dedue couldn’t bring himself to wake her. She’d done enough that day; she could hold her baby -- her daughter -- once she had the rest she deserved. So, looking back at the worried midwife, Dedue tried to adopt a neutral expression and stood up. “It seems Her Eminence is taking a rest for now,” he said, taking a few steps towards the midwife before extending his arms as an invitation to take the swaddled, wailing child. “May I?”

“Uh… y-yes, sir.”

The shaken woman visibly gulped before handing the baby to Dedue, after which she quickly retreated to the other side of the bed and began cleaning up. The gentle giant didn’t blame her for the hasty retreat; he knew how scary he appeared.

Yet, when he looked down to the tiny girl in his arms, the wailing ceased. She smiled and wiggled in the blanket, giggling as only a newborn could. A healthy, baby girl.

But her skin was dark, and the little hair sprouting from her scalp was white as snow.

The blood of Duscur.

_ Shit… _


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dimitri and Byleth finally meet their baby girl... and other discussions are had.

Byleth slowly opened her eyes and sighed when she saw the wooden ceiling above her. She’d been having the most wonderful dream about being a dragon flying over the world and just  _ had _ to know how it ended, but some quiet voice inside her mind roused her. The queen rolled over and nearly fell back to sleep when she felt a large hand on her shoulder.

“Byleth?” Dedue asked in his deep, soothing voice. “Are you awake?”

The queen almost said no, but she didn’t feel tired anymore. As more awareness crept back into her mind, she realized why she’d woken up. “Yes, I’m up,” Byleth said groggily, pushing herself into a sitting position. Dedue was still sitting by her bedside, though now he held a swaddled bundle in one arm. The queen couldn’t help but smile at the sight. “How’s our baby doing?”

An almost imperceptible smile graced the gentle giant’s features. “She’s doing fine. Would you like to hold her?”

Byleth nodded emphatically and held her arms out. If her heart could beat, she was certain it would’ve been hammering in her chest from the anticipation. She was finally going to welcome her daughter into the world. The queen felt excited and nervous in equal measures; it was practically a miracle her body wasn’t trembling.

Gently, Dedue placed the tiny child in his lover’s arms, only withdrawing his own hands once he was certain Byleth’s grip was secure. The queen held the bundle to her chest and gazed down at the little face that looked up at her. Her daughter’s face.

“Hello,” she whispered as the child blinked the last bits of sleep from her eyes. “It’s nice to meet you. I’m Byleth, your mother.”

Without an ounce of hesitation, the baby girl smiled and giggled loudly, wiggling her arms and legs within the blanket as best she could. Her brilliant, green eyes darted everywhere, like she just couldn’t wait to see everything this world had to offer. Byleth couldn’t help but chuckle as well, leaning down so she could nuzzle her daughter’s cheek.

“Oh, I’m so glad I get to hold you…” The unspoken half of the sentence floated through the queen’s mind,  _ My mother never got to hold me. _ Beyond that one thought, though, she couldn’t have been happier.

“Byleth?” Dedue’s soft voice cut through her euphoria, and she looked up to see him frowning slightly, his gaze settled somewhere to the side. His brow was furrowed over eyes full of guilt. “Your…  _ Our _ daughter, she’s…”

The queen didn’t need him to explain. She saw the baby girl’s dark skin and white hair, her parentage obvious to all… and she was obviously not Dimitri’s. The king would love her regardless of who actually sired her, but Byleth understood the quiet knight’s concern. Anti-Duscur sentiment was common among the people of Faerghus, and so their daughter would not be well received by all. Which is why they agreed on having Dimitri’s child first, so they could at least avoid the issue of having an “illegitimate” crown prince or princess. But, somewhere along the line, they’d messed up.

Byleth sighed heavily and glanced back at the still giggling baby. “Dedue, please don’t worry.” Carefully, she shifted her hold on the bundle so she could reach out and cup the gentle giant’s cheek. Only when he leaned into her touch, and covered her hand with his own, did she continue. “She’s happy and healthy, and that’s good enough for me. We can worry about how the world sees her later, but for now… we’re parents. Let’s just enjoy some time as a family before we have to be political figures again.”

Dedue softly chuckled. “You are correct,” he said, placing a quick kiss on his lover’s lips. “I will try to keep my worrying to a minimum.”

“Thanks… Now, you wouldn’t happen to remember the name we all agreed on for a girl, would you? ‘Our daughter’ is quite a mouthful, and I think she’s gone long enough without a proper name.”

* * * * * * * * * *

Dimitri raced through the fortress, mumbling rushed apologies to the people he inadvertently crashed into in his haste. He simply had to be by his beloved’s side, to support her through an experience he could never fully understand. The voices in his head were already shaming him for his failure to be by the queen’s side, but he forced them to the side. This was supposed to be a happy time, not one of regrets.

The young king’s heart had nearly stopped when Cyril landed his wyvern in the middle of the hunting party. Dimitri expected to hear the worst as the Almyran boy rushed to his side, but it quickly turned to panicked joy when he explained that Byleth was giving birth. As the hunting party had gone quite far from the Locket, Cyril offered to give the king a flight back, despite the encroaching darkness of twilight. The young king made a mental note to thank Cyril for taking the risk of night flying in order to get him back as soon as possible.

As a pair of startled maids pointed him to the room Byleth was in, Dimitri’s heart beat ever faster. He wondered how long his beloved had been in labor, how close she was to delivering their first child. Or if he’d missed it entirely. That would certainly hurt, though it was dulled by the knowledge that Dedue would be by her side regardless. Still, the young king hoped he wasn’t too late.

That hope was short-lived as he saw the small gathering of people outside Byleth’s room but didn’t hear anything from the room itself. Dimitri slowed his pace as he approached. Mercedes and Alois greeted him, and the young king responded automatically, all his focus on seeing his wife… and possibly their child. Before he could ask, his pious friend gently told him how Flayn had announced the birth of a healthy baby girl a little over an hour prior.

_ “You couldn’t even get this right,” _ the voices of the dead hissed in his ear.  _ “How could you deny us our revenge to be such a failure of a husband?” _

Dimitri grit his teeth and took a deep breath to steady his nerves.  _ I’m here now, _ he reminded himself.  _ And my delay was not intentional. We didn’t expect the birth for another week. I haven’t failed anyone. _

Slowly, the young king slipped into the room. To one side, Flayn was curled up on the couch, cocooned in a blanket and lightly snoring. He wasn’t surprised to see her there; if anything happened suddenly, it would be good to have a healer so close at hand. But she was the only occupant besides the two resting on the bed. Byleth was sitting up with her back against the headrest, holding a swaddled baby in her arms, while Dedue sat beside her, a comforting hand on her leg. As soon as Dimitri opened the door, they looked up to see who was coming in this time.

“Dima!” Byleth gasped, the broadest smile he’d ever seen crossing her features. “I was worried you wouldn’t get here until tomorrow.”

Dedue quietly slipped off the mattress and bowed. “It’s good to see you safe, Dimitri.”

“You should thank Cyril, then,” Dimitri said. “His night-flying skills are the only reason I’m here now.” He paused and added, “I’m sorry I wasn’t here earlier…”

“You have no reason to apologize.” Byleth patted the empty spot by her side invitingly. “Now get over here and meet your daughter.”

The young king couldn’t help the sheepish grin that crossed his lips as he strode forward. He’d faced down monsters and villains dozens of times before, and yet he still felt nervous, even as he sat beside his wife and looked at the small, precious child in her arms. The child who stared up at him with bright, green eyes.

“H-hello,” Dimitri said, heart pounding so loud he wondered if anyone else could hear it.

The girl just kept gaping at him, like she couldn’t tell what he was supposed to be. But at least she wasn’t crying.

“We… agreed on the name ‘Samara’ for a girl, was that correct?”

It took a moment for Dedue’s question to penetrate the awe that held Dimitri’s attention captive. “Ah! Y-yes,” the young king replied, glancing up to meet the quiet knight’s gaze. “Yes… Samara. A good name.”

He hadn’t noticed it when he first entered the room, but guilt weighed heavily and visibly on Dedue’s shoulders. Dimitri didn’t need to ask what was wrong; he knew. Samara was Dedue’s child by blood, an outcome he thought they’d been careful enough to avoid. The air of unease that hung over the happy occasion hovered lower as the young king realized just how difficult their lives were about to become.

Looking back down at the tiny girl, Dimitri felt he had to say  _ something _ . “Dedue… I love her.” He spoke with kingly conviction, with the confidence he wore when dealing with stubborn nobles or hardened criminals. It was the voice he used when he would accept no argument, as he knew nothing would ever convince him to abandon Samara. Gently, he reached out and let the little girl grasp his finger in her tiny hands. “She is my daughter as much as yours and Byleth’s, and I will not allow old prejudices to change that.”

Glancing back up, Dimitri saw that most of the tension had gone from his lover’s body, though some still remained. It was enough for Dedue to sit back down, taking his spot by the queen’s side.

Byleth flashed the quiet knight an ‘I told you so’ look and touched her forehead lightly to his shoulder. “See?” she sighed. “We’ll be fine.”

Dedue nodded and let out a long breath. “Of course.”

A long period of quiet followed, in which the only sounds were Samara’s curious noises as she gummed at Dimitri’s hand and her parents’ soft cooing over her antics. It was the kind of mundane, loving moment the young king hadn’t thought he would live to see. He desperately didn’t want it to end, but he felt he owed it to his lovers to say what was on his mind.

“My love… Beloved… I…” Dimitri took a deep breath to collect his thoughts. “I mean it when I say that I won’t let anything break our family apart, but… I’m not actually sure how to stave off the inevitable scandal.” He withdrew his hand from his daughter’s grasp, much to Samara’s disappointment. He didn’t always know his own strength, though, and wasn’t about to risk accidentally hurting her. “This isn’t something they cover in etiquette lessons.”

Byleth groaned and let her head fall back against the headboard. “Not you, too. Can’t we have this discussion tomorrow?” she whined.

Dimitri stifled the chuckle that bubbled within his chest. His wife was so calm and collected in public, but, in the privacy of their own room, she let the mask slip. Leaning over, he gave her a gentle peck on her forehead. “I’d love nothing more than to do just that, but I’m afraid I simply can’t relax without having the outline of a plan, at least.”

“Neither can I,” Dedue softly admitted, his eyes cast downward to the newborn princess. “Though… I am also unsure how to proceed.”

“That’s why I didn’t want to talk about it tonight,” the queen sighed. “Between the three of us, I doubt we could come up with even one solid scheme for deflecting a scandal.”

The pause which followed was notably more tense than before. Dimitri lightly stroked Samara’s cheek as he thought. She deserved a happy childhood, yet the young king worried that they’d stumbled at the starting line. A princess with the blood of Duscur would be despised and avoided by any who still saw the Duscur people as traitors who murdered the previous king in cold blood. The moment they presented her in Fhirdiad, all Hell would break loose. The country was still recovering from the previous war; they couldn’t afford to instigate more unrest. Dimitri supposed it was a blessing their daughter was born far away from the capital, with so much going on around them to take some of the attention off the royal birth. After all, it had been centuries since Almyran warriors last stepped foot on Goneril territory without an intent to raid and plunder…

Dimitri snapped his head up as a thought struck. It would either be a wonderful idea or a horrible idea, but it was one. “You know… we may not be good at schemes,” he said slowly, “but we know someone who is, and he’s staying at the Locket at the moment.”

“Who?” Dedue and Byleth asked in unison.

The young king merely smiled. “Claude.”

**Author's Note:**

> As always, comments and critiques are greatly appreciated!
> 
> I plan to continue this fic, although I'm unsure how quickly I'll be able to do so. Life is hectic, and I've got so many fanfiction ideas I want to write that my head feels crowded. Anyway, hope y'all enjoy!


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